


most sane and sunly

by leiaorganaa



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, NOT a fuck or die situation, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Sex Pollen, just an 'oh shit we're in love' situation, this is so sappy i can't believe it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 09:53:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4430747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiaorganaa/pseuds/leiaorganaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elaine Trevelyan is struggling with feelings for a certain ex-templar, when an attack forces them both to confront those feelings head-on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	most sane and sunly

Cullen was looking at her again. Elaine stared very intently down at the table, trying to tune back in to Leliana and Josephine's discussion. Some Orlesian was throwing a tantrum. Something about land and the Chantry and Orlesian marriage law – and he wanted the Inquisition to intervene for some baffling reason. She pursed her lips in frustration. The subtleties of the Game escaped her. And it was difficult to focus with Cullen's eyes boring into her skull.

“Inquisitor, what do you think?”

Elaine jerked her head up, completely conspicuous. Both Josephine and Leliana were waiting for her response, Josie with generous politeness and Leliana with a curious smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well. Josephine.” When it came to matters of diplomacy, she was unparalleled. It was, after all, her job. “I...trust that you can take care of this.”

Josephine nodded, and Elaine barely contained a sigh of relief. That little success gave her the nerve to look Cullen in the eye, who of course, quickly looked away. She felt a stab of hurt.

In Ostwick, during her wonderfully benign Circle life before the rebellion began, relations with Templars were never strained. Just distant. Young and terrified of the electricity crackling through her veins, Elaine had been eager to swallow the message that the Templars were present for her protection. The handsome men and women in polished armor, leaping to her aid at any moment, fulfilled the romantic notions of a sheltered noble girl who missed her home. One spring morning, when the new Templars started work, she met Jamie. He was sharply good looking, with dark hair that gleamed auburn in the sun. He was nimble and quick with a blade, and he had a crooked smile only for her. The day that she finally got up to nerve to speak to him, she'd overheard a conversation between him and another Templar about their feelings regarding mages. That was when Elaine understood what the relationship between mages and Templars truly meant.

Cullen was respectful, skilled, achingly handsome, and logically Elaine harbored no delusions about their relationship. As a mage, she had never expected even friendship from him He may not have officially been a Templar any longer, but that life was infused in everything he did. Unfortunately, she still had feelings. He appeared in her dreams, a shadow version of Cullen that played on her wants like a desire demon. Elaine kept those feelings secret.

However, it was painful that he would not meet her eye, yet stared at her through council meetings. With what? Hatred? Disbelief that a mage held the title of Inquisitor? He didn't seem cruel, but neither had Jamie. She vividly remembered that day in Ostwick, clenching her shaking hands, tears leaking out as she listened to him say one terrible thing after another about people like her, as if she had any control about the magic that coursed through her.

The meeting finished and Elaine was out of the room as quickly as possible, walking rapidly through Josephine's office and into the main hall. She was so intent on escaping into the fresh air, head down to avoid any dignitaries that may have been visiting, that she almost smacked into Cole. Elaine gasped and flattened herself against the wall, scrubbing a hand across her face. “Maker, Cole, we've talked about appearing from nowhere.”

“I didn't,” Cole said, confused. “I made sure everyone could see me, just like you asked.”

“I – mm.” She heard voices from the other side of the door, which meant Cullen would be approaching. Not wanting to dismiss Cole, she hooked her arm in his and began walking them outside. “How are you doing today?”

“He shines in the sun and I know he will never be mine. Strong and kind, but he never look at me. Please look at me.”

“ _Cole_ ,” Elaine hissed, turning quickly to face him. She put her hands firmly on his shoulders, relaxing them a little when she saw the baffled look in his eye. “That's private, alright? Please – please don't say that in front of anyone else.”

He blinked and nodded. “Alright. But you're hurting.”

“I'm fine.” The words rang hollow and untrue in her own ears, and she again felt the urge to flee. “I'll talk to you later, Cole. I need to go speak to...someone.” Elaine hurried away, arms wrapped around herself as she headed towards the stables. She was just going to ride. A few hours of fresh air would clear her head, and she'd be able to focus. Lock these thoughts in a dark room and be the _Inquisitor_ , not a sad little girl who couldn't function because her feelings were hurt. No matter how Cullen felt about her personally, he was the best person for the job and he cared about the Inquisition just as much as she did. That had to be enough.

Elaine looked up and saw Cullen on the battlements. As if she had called him by name, he turned, and she knew he was looking directly at her. He froze under her gaze, expression hard to read from the ground. Elaine felt fresh waves of frustration well up inside of her. _What?_ She wanted to cry, half angry and half on the verge of tears. _What do you want from me?_

A hand seized her on the shoulder and tugged her rudely around. “Excuse me?” Elaine snapped, electricity crackling in her palms. Her lips curled into a snarl as she turned to face the offending party. It was a man, attractive in a blandly handsome way, dressed in robes that gave no clue to his origin.

“The duke sends his regards,” the man said, as genially as if they were old friends, and blew a powder into her face. Elaine tried to draw from the well of magic inside of her, but he had released his hand and the world was spinning out of reach. Her throat was clenched, sound unable to make it out. She couldn't breathe. Maker, she couldn't _breathe._

 

 

 

“The Herald!”

 

 

 

“-quisitor! She needs - “

 

 

 

“Elaine. _Elaine!_ ”

 

 

 

She woke to a forceful press on her chest and a tingle on her lips. Cullen's face swam into focus. He sighed in relief when she opened her eyes. “Oh, thank the Maker. I want that man _found_!” he shouted as he straightened. Elaine could feel movement all around her, but was too disoriented to lift her head. Her entire body was burning. The world thrummed in overwhelming detail. She tried to speak, but only a dry rasp came out. Cullen knelt at her side.

“Don't try to move, Inquisitor. A healer is coming.”

“You...” Elaine sighed, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “You called me Elaine.” Her limbs were so heavy. She was surprised that her her skin was not blistering in flames.

Cullen opened his mouth to speak but did not, staring at her as if she had caught him in an indescretion. “I suppose I did.” He pressed a gentle hand to her cheek, and the flames lessened. Pure arousal flared in her gut, and she could not bite back the moan that tumbled out. Her heart hammered against her chest. She was seized with lust. His hands on her. She wanted his hands everywhere, touching her, their bodies together...

Cullen jerked his hand away as if he had been burned, but his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. He was breathing hard.“I...I...” The commander stood up, swaying on his feet and the more distance he put between them, the worse the pain got. Elaine cried out, seized with it, and the world blinked out.

 

 

 

Elaine woke up shivering. She was in her quarters, and became slowly aware of the quiet voices at the foot of her bed. Josephine, Leliana, and Cassandra were huddled in intense discussion, while Cullen sat to the side looking intensely miserable. He was dressed only in an undershirt and his trousers, skin covered in a faint sheen of sweat.

Leliana was the first to notice that Elaine was awake. She held up a hand and the other women fell silent. For one long, terrible moment, they stared at her with a range of expressions on their face, none of them good. Josephine was the first to speak. “Lady Trevelyan. How are you feeling?”

“So informal today, Josie,” Elaine croaked. She still felt horrible, but the pain was not so searing. It had faded to a constant, throbbing ache. “I've had better days. What...what happened?”

Cassandra mouth was pressed in a thin, angry line. “You were poisoned.” Her words were like a blade. 

“Attacked by a duke who wished to discredit you, and in turn, the Inquisition.” Leliana moved to her side. Elaine tried to put the pieces together. The powder, and then she had not been able to breathe. Cullen...he had revived her, which explained the misery she saw reflected in his face. He had not yet looked at her. Andraste preserve her, she wanted him. She wanted him so badly. The fire was building again and she was painfully aroused. She groaned in humiliation and inched away from her advisor.

“Maker, Leliana, don't come near me!” 

“We believe that the poison can only be spread through – ahem – direct contact.” Josephine shot a guilty look at Cullen.

“Why did does this duke want to discredit me? What did I do to offend him?”

“Do you remember the Duke of Ambois? He was a visitor at Skyhold some weeks ago.”

Elaine waded through the murky fatigue of her brain. She met a lot of people, but after a few moments of deliberation, it clicked. “The man who...proposed?” The Duke of Ambois had been a portly, aging man who struck her as arrogant and self-centered.

“Yes. And you...laughed at him.”

“I thought he was joking!”

Josephine held her hands up. “I am not criticizing you, my lady. I have never liked the House of Ambois, Jerome in particular. But apparently he felt slighted enough to carry out this treacherous attack.”

“Through a servant,” Cassandra hissed. “He was too much of a coward to do it himself.”

“What did that man use on me?” Elaine asked.

“It's called Lover's Lament,” Leliana said. “It comes from the pollen of a rare flower in the Western Approach. It...stimulates the body until it is completely overwhelmed. You were not given a fatal dose, and the healers managed to alleviate the symptoms.”

“Then I'll be fine.”

Leliana grimaced. “The poison will eventually leave your body, but you will suffer as you are now for days. The only way the only way to immediately cure yourself is through relief. Sex, to be indelicate.”

Cassandra scoffed and looked away. Elaine was fairly certain that she knew what she was thinking. It sounded ridiculous, like something Varric would come up with to sell more books. Attacked with a substance that caused painful arousal, _and_ she had managed to pass on the poison to the person of her unrequited affection.

“This cannot leave the room,” said Josephine seriously. “The people saw you fall. They think you are resting, but the duke was right about the fallout of such an attack. Imagine if this had spread. Imagine the Inquisition's reputation if Skyhold was seized in uncontrollable throes of passion, behaving like animals. We would be a laughingstock.”

“Duke Jerome will be properly punished,” Cassandra added. By her stormy expression, Elaine did not doubt it.

“So what do you propose we do in the mean time?” Elaine asked. She felt very small.

“In the end,” Josephine voice softened, “That is up to you. As Leliana said, we do not believe you can die from what you were given, but you will experience great discomfort for days on end. We do not wish for you or the Commander to suffer, but we also need the both of you for the Inquisition to function. And since we cannot allow the poison to spread farther, I'm afraid the only people qualified to alleviate the pain are sitting in this room.”

There was a long, painful silence, in which Elaine could not look anywhere but her bedspread. She swore that her heartbeat should have been loud enough for everyone in the room to hear it. She closed her eyes, bore down against the pain, and made a decision. “Leave us, please.”

The women murmured soft assent and filed out of her quarters, casting gazes of various emotion over their shoulders. Elaine waited for the door to shut, then threw the bedspread aside gasping. The weight was too much. She could feel the threads of her clothes rubbing individually against her skin, and she looked at Cullen and the fire was consuming her.

Cullen rose to his feet and trudged over to her, sitting on the side of her bed. “Maker,” he whispered, because she knew he felt it too – like her blood was singing for him. Her cunt was throbbing, and it hurt so much that she wanted to cry. She couldn't find it in herself to be embarrassed. Before she could stop herself, Elaine grabbed his hands, and the pain died down a little. She was holding his hands. They were warm and real and just as she had imagined – rough from battle, a soldier's hands, so large and gentle around her own. “Elaine,” he said carefully, “You don't need to – I would never -” she cut him off swiftly.

“I'm not asking you to change your feelings about me,” Elaine said in a rush. “I know we are not – close. You saved my life and now you are punished for it. But neither of us can afford to be out commission for days, and this duke and I should have words. Since we cannot seek release elsewhere...”

A myriad of emotions played over Cullen's face. He looked as if he was going to speak several times and stopped, gazing helplessly into her eyes. Elaine's heart clenched with a different kind of pain. Apparently, he was not going to make this easy. “You must know,” he said slowly, uncertainly. “I..that is to say..”

“Shh.” Elaine brought his hands closer and leaned in so their foreheads were almost touching. The air crackled between them, and it took all of Elaine's self control not to shed her clothes there and tackle him to the bed, or at least bring his hand between her legs. His eyes were dark again as they had been earlier. She bit her bottom lip and his eyes flicked down. Cullen gave a low groan, his grip on her hands tightening. The groan rippled through her body and Elaine found it hard to catch her breath. “I'm not asking you to marry me,” she said. Her voice sounded distant in her head, too calm to belong to her body. “But I want this. I need it. Do you?”

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Yes, I need you.”

They stared , and then the moment shattered and they were engulfed in each other. They kissed furiously, indelicately, but finally quenching their desperate thirst. It was more than Elaine had ever imagined. It was as if they couldn't get close enough. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him flush against her as they fell backwards against the bed. He nudged at her legs with his thigh and she opened willingly for him.

Cullen rutted against her, and Elaine could feel his cock against the pulsing heat between her thighs. In one swift move, she hooked her legs firmly around his back and flipped them over, thanking Cassandra profusely in her head for the sparring sessions she'd been coerced into. Cullen groaned and chased after her mouth, but Elaine pushed his chest down and began to quickly undo her shirt. It was difficult to make her fingers work correctly, however, and after a few maddening seconds Cullen sat up. “I'm sure the Inquisition can afford a new one,” he growled, and tore it open. Elaine gasped and laughed, then undid her breastband and tossed it all aside. She groaned when her nipples, achingly hard, hit the air. Cullen stared at her chest for a moment, then shucked his own shirt off over his head and took one of her nipples in his mouth, grinding her down onto the hard bulge of his trousers.

Elaine threw her head back and cried out. The air crackled audibly around them. She looked to Cullen for any sign of distress, but he met her gaze hotly and tugged her in for another kiss. Her body felt raw and open, the pain receding to almost nothing, but the drug urging her on to the next step. She was ready for him. She had never wanted anything more. She broke the kiss to drag her teeth along his jaw, nipping gently at his ear before reaching a hand down to stroke him. “I want you,” she murmured. “I want all of you.” Cullen writhed under her touch.

“Yes. Maker, yes.”

She rocked back on her heels, giving them enough space to shove their trousers down. When it was done, Elaine inhaled sharply at the sight of his cock, flush and hard against his stomach. She was wet, practically dripping for him. They made eye contact and she gripped his shoulder with one hand, using the other to position herself over him. He took her face in his hands. Elaine froze.

She had never felt so connected to another person, and beneath the driving lust, she _saw_ him. Cullen looked at her as if she were holy, with such unfettered, pure devotion that she felt tears pricking at her eyes. There was no mistaking that expression, as difficult as it was to believe.

“I want this, do you understand?” he said urgently, sounding far too self-possessed for the position they were in. “Not just now. Not because of what happened today. I – I yearn for you. Desperately. Every day. Andraste preserve me, Elaine, I know I haven't made things easy. But I need you to know how I feel.”

“Oh, Cullen,” Elaine breathed, eyes welling up. “Are you sure?”

Cullen smiled. “I have never been more so.”

Elaine slid her hands into his hair and kissed him with all the passion she'd been keeping inside of herself. He was here and he wanted her without aid of lust or poison. He hoisted her with strong hands at her hips, and she sank down on his cock.

Her whole body was lit up from the inside. The air hummed and crackled with energy as she felt him all the way inside of her, nerves abuzz. He moaned into her mouth and wrapped his arms around her, flipping them again so he covered her with his body. He thrust into her, gently at first, but unable to keep control over each stroke. Elaine lifted her legs and curled them around his back to draw him deeper, and they were quickly moving to one rhythm. White hot pleasure built in her belly with each thrust.

“Elaine,” Cullen gasped against her neck. “Elaine. I can't last - " 

“That's alright.” Elaine found his mouth and kissed him softly, lips brushing in the lightest of touches. “I'm with you.” She embraced him, and he thrust harder, deeper – he hit a spot deep inside and gave a shout. She gasped, feet digging into the bend and they came together in one infinite moment, bodies made of light.

As the pleasure ebbed, Elaine found her mind clearer than it had been for days, even before the obscuring burn of the poison. Cullen rested on top of her for a moment, still inside, then pulled out with a soft noise. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, stroked her blonde head, and slowly settled beside her.

He looked wonderfully debauched. His hair was ruffled beyond fixing, a single curl hanging over his forehead. Elaine stared at him for a long moment, unable to speak, finding it difficult to believe that Cullen Rutherford was in her bed. That he had been _yearning_ for her.

“I didn't even think you liked me.” Elaine took his hand in hers, and twined their fingers together. She held their hands up in the light.

Cullen's face fell. “You...have so much on your shoulders, and I could not bring myself to add to your burdens. I underestimated how much I cared for you. Speaking to you, pretending all was normal – it was torture.” He raised himself up on his elbows and kissed her fingers. Elaine shivered with want. Not simply sexual, but a want for this as well. Countless hours in each other's arms, speaking private things in the soft light of the dimming sun. “So I tried not to trouble you at all. But you are so beautiful, Elaine. You shine like a candle in the darkness. Can you forgive me?” When she didn't answer right away, he flushed. “I'm sorry. I am – ah – not very good at this. If you would like me...to – to go...”

“No, Cullen,” Elaine chased his hand as he tried to extricate it, and smiled. “It's the opposite. I want you to stay.”

 

 

 

 

After a few more rounds, Elaine realized that she could no longer sense the poison. She and Cullen were wrapped drowsily around each other under a blanket. Any closer to sleep, and she would never have heard the tentative rap on the door.

“Um, Inquisitor?” an unfamiliar voice said on the other side. “Are you are alright? Sister Leliana sent me to check on you. And. Um. The Commander.”

Elaine chuckled, despite her annoyance at the interruption. Obviously the poor man had lost a bet.

Cullen groaned and rolled over. “Go away!”

“Oh! Y-yes sir!” There was a flurry of movement. Elaine laughed as Cullen nosed against her collarbone.

“That was mean. I can assure you, no one wanted his job.”

“I don't care.” Cullen pressed a sleepy kiss to the corner of her jaw. “I'm not letting you go again.”

“Oh, really? I suppose we'll stay in here forever.”

“Yes. Forever.”

“We'll starve!”

“Someone will send a tray up eventually.”

“They'll have to move the war table in.”

“I. Don't. Care.” Cullen said, punctuating each word with a kiss. A slow, lazy smile broke out across his face as he looked at her.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just have to keep reminding myself that I'm awake.”

“Like you could dream me up.” Elaine pressed her forehead to his and they laughed, tangled together in her bed, and Elaine could not remember ever being so alight with happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> hi. i'm super nervous. dragon age and sex scene writing newbie. this is the sappiest thing i've ever written, but these two dummies just took hold and wouldn't let go. apparently cullen turns me into a ridiculous romantic. title is from the e. e. cummings poem "love is more thicker than regret".
> 
> if you want, you can find my dragon age tumblr at elainetrevelyan.tumblr.com!


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